


To Build A Home

by Johaerys



Series: Through It All: Trevor Belmont & Sypha Belnades [2]
Category: Castlevania (Cartoon), 悪魔城ドラキュラ | Castlevania Series
Genre: Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-08
Updated: 2020-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:09:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23066773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Johaerys/pseuds/Johaerys
Summary: 'Home is where the heart is', or at least that's what people say. Trevor has never had a home, not since it was taken from him. Always on the run, always drifting, never growing roots. And he's used to that. Quite fine with it, really. Nobody can get close if he's always on the go. Nobody can ruin his life. Really, he'sfine.Until a pretty girl with a clever, knowing smile and bright, bright eyes takes him by the hand, and his life changes for good.
Relationships: Trevor Belmont/Sypha Belnades
Series: Through It All: Trevor Belmont & Sypha Belnades [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1657738
Comments: 9
Kudos: 100





	To Build A Home

**Author's Note:**

> I listened to [this song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oUFJJNQGwhk) on repeat while writing this one shot, hence the title. I love these two gorgeous fools so much.
> 
> Hope you enjoy! :)

“Home is where the heart is”. That was how the saying went, wasn’t it?

At that moment, if Trevor had the person who had come up with that horse crap before him, he was sure he would have throttled them. He couldn’t help his scowl while he watched the horses’ heads bobbing as they walked, pulling the carriage forward, and listened to the soft clop of their hooves on the old dirt road. One month he and Sypha had been on the road, one entire month - and at times it felt to him like an eternity. Others, like the blink of an eye. His back hurt from the bite of the hard wooden floor of the carriage he and Sypha had come to call home. His head ached, and his throat felt parched, and he would have gladly sold Morningstar, and any other precious family heirloom he owned besides, for a mug of ale, were there any blasted inns about. Yet, there weren’t. Only woods and dirt roads filled with deep ditches that made the wheels of the carriage snag. Oh, and night creatures. Can’t forget the night creatures. Troublesome bastards.

The previous night a bunch of them had attacked them, when they had least expected it. That in and of itself was unusual - Trevor always took care to set up snares and his traps just right before they went to sleep, and Sypha’s protective wards were not easily broken. How the creatures had managed to slither past them, he could scarcely understand, and that lack of understanding had almost been his undoing. He had woken up to low growls and the acrid stench of their breaths as they surrounded them, and it had taken Trevor three seconds before lunging to his feet to grab Morningstar and his sword. Three entire seconds. When fighting these creatures, a single second can mean life or death, and Trevor and Sypha had come dangerously close to that. They had managed to fend them off, but not before they had destroyed their last reserves of food and tore at their blankets and the canvas of the carriage in their frenzy to get to them. So crazed were they, Trevor was surprised that their horses had made it out alive.

Well. That was something to be grateful for, he supposed?

He rubbed the back of his neck tiredly, letting out a soft sigh. It wasn’t easy being on the road during those times. The road had always been his home - if it could ever be called that. He never liked it too much, and he never thought his mind would change. 

A soft clatter echoed from the depths of the carriage as Sypha made her way to the front. Her lids were still heavy from sleep, the imprint of the pillow upon her cheek. “Why are you huffing and puffing?” she mumbled groggily, sitting beside him.

Trevor shot her a sidelong glance, biting his lip. “Wasn’t me.” He nodded towards the horses. “Ask them. They seem to be in a mood today.”

Sypha arched an eyebrow at him. “The horses. Right.” Trevor returned her knowing look with a frown, and Sypha chuckled. She plucked his cloak from her shoulders and placed it around him. “Perhaps that’ll lift your spirits, grumpy man,” she said, giving him a peck on the cheek.

Trevor flushed, glancing at the cloak. “Are you sure you don’t need it? It’s quite chilly.”

“I’m alright. It’s good for a blanket, but my own cloak will do just fine now. I am made of sterner stuff, you know,” she said with a wink.

Trevor huffed a laugh, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and pulling her close. “I know.”

They stayed silent for a long while as they watched the road before them twist and stretch languidly, like a snake. With his cheek resting on Sypha’s head and the soft rocking of the carriage, Trevor could feel himself drifting into sleep, when Sypha shook him awake.

“Trevor, look!”

He jolted where he sat, hand reaching for the sword hanging by his belt. “What? What?”

“A house!”

Trevor blinked at her in confusion, then turned to follow her gaze. The top of a large house, or rather a mansion, was peeking through the thick foliage. It looked abandoned, as most houses in that area were. Perhaps an old country home of some high lord that had been left to rot after the countryside was all but claimed by the creatures of the dark.

“We could go in and explore!” Sypha said excitedly. “We could find food there. Or at least some decent blankets. Not that I don’t appreciate your cloak, of course. But I would prefer something that smells a little less like a dog that has been dragged through the mud and dipped in stale beer.”

Trevor rolled his eyes and groaned, pulling the horses’ reins towards the overgrown path that led to the house. “You say that, yet you’re the one that hoards it to yourself and leaves me shivering in the night. Not only that, you also rub your feet on me when you sleep. Cold feet. _Cold_.” He shuddered dramatically at the word.

“What am I supposed to do? It’s freezing!”

“I swear, next time I’ll leave you and go sleep with the horses.”

“Well. We can’t have that, can we?” She slithered close to him, playfully tracing his ear with her finger. Trevor leaned into her touch, despite his irritation. She flashed him a bright smile. “Then you’ll be stinking of both dogs and horses.”

“Bloody Jesus, Mary and Joseph, woman-”

Sypha laughed, cupping his cheeks and cutting him short with a kiss. Trevor smiled, entirely forgetting what he had even been about to say. Her lips were soft, so soft, her tongue sweet, and the chuckle that bubbled from deep within her to crash against his lips sweeter still. Sypha edged back, grinning at him as she hopped off the carriage just as the horses stopped at the entrance of the house. She half-ran to the tall house’s gilded entrance, giddy like a little girl.

“Come on, then! What are you waiting for?”

Trevor huffed quietly under his breath, making sure Morningstar and his sword were safely hanging from his belt. One never knew what they may encounter in a building that looked like it hadn’t seen human presence in months, perhaps even years. There were birds’ nests along its roof, a thick carpet of fallen leaves on the marble staircase leading to the entrance. Half the windows were barred, while others hung open like gaping maws, shards of broken glass still clinging to their skeletal frames. That definitely did not look like it had happened by chance. His hand flew instinctively to his sword hilt as he moved on.

He let out a soft sigh. When had he become the one to watch out for danger while Sypha ran carelessly ahead?

Trevor stepped inside the mansion, glancing cautiously about him as he walked. A strawberry blonde head peeked from one of the many doors, a wide smile crossing a flushed face. “There’s no one here,” Sypha informed him. “But there’s a kitchen! And a cellar.” She ducked back inside the room, calling to him from beyond the door. “Whoever finds the most food wins!”

“Wins what?” Trevor said, his interest piqued. He might just be able to find some ale in that place. Perhaps fortune had finally smiled on him. He quickened his pace, walking through the door- only to see Sypha standing in the middle of a plundered kitchen, holding up what looked like a bag of dried peas and a jar of pickled cabbage. So much for hoping for some ale in that place.

“Winner takes all,” she said, winking at him.

Trevor grunted as he opened a cupboard, its hinges whining as it moved. “You can keep them. I’d much rather have-” he reached for the solitary jar on the shelf, squinting at its contents, “- canned pork sausage.”

Sypha made a disgusted face, turning away. “That looks like it’s been sitting there for years. I wouldn’t want it anywhere near me.”

“Good! All the more for me then,” Trevor said. “Who knows? It might actually put me out of my misery.” He gave a small start when a pea landed on his head, then another. “Sypha-” he started, when another one found him on the forehead. Sypha giggled, pelting him with peas while he circled the table to get to her. She cried out in laughter when he snatched her by her waist. He was irresistibly drawn to the look in her eyes, the bright sound of her laugh. The bag of peas fell on the floor with a muffled thud as Sypha let it go to smooth her palms along his shoulders. She kissed him gently, fingers threading in his hair.

“You are not eating those pork sausages,” she said with a mock stern frown. “A poor lover I would be if I let you meet your ultimate demise by gobbling down spoiled meat.”

Her words sent a rush of exhilaration through him. He tightened his hold around her, his hand tracing the curve of her slender waist. “My lover, are you?”

“Mm-hmm. And more besides.”

“Like what?” He pushed her gently back against the counter, nipping at her bottom lip. “Care to show me?”

“Oh, yes.” With a small wink she wriggled out of his grasp, walking towards the door. “But after we finish exploring this place. Don’t forget - we have a bet going on, you and I.”

Trevor groaned and rolled his eyes, yet he still followed her. He followed her, because to not was unthinkable.

The upper floors of the mansion were in a similar state as the kitchen; dusty, dark and thoroughly plundered. Whoever had been there last had taken great care to leave only debris and utter rubbish in their wake. Furniture, cushions, sheets, blankets, carpets had all been taken away. Not even the curtains had been left on their rods, most of them either gone or shredded to bits. No wonder no one ever came back to claim this place. It was a midden heap, a hollow remnant of its illustrious past.

“What’s that?” Sypha asked, snapping him out of his thorough examination of a broken porcelain vase. He followed her gaze until it led him to a door on the upper floor, that seemed to have been ignored by the looters. She walked to it without hesitation, carefully examining the door. “The lock looks sturdy. It doesn’t seem like any of the looters have been able to get through. I wonder what’s behind there.”

“We’ll have to find out, won’t we?”

She brought her fingers before her face, speaking in a low voice. The air around her fingertips shimmered until the lock exploded with a loud crack. She shot him a wicked smile before walking in. “I suppose we will.”

They took a few careful steps forward, eyes wide as they took in the space around them. It was a spacious room, with tall windows that let in the bright sunlight. The floor was lined with a thick red carpet, a floor to ceiling library covering the far wall. The furniture there was all untouched, unspoiled; a small sofa, an armchair and a low coffee table in front of the fireplace, a wide bed with a heavy velvet canopy, two ornate bedside tables, a gilded liquor cabinet close to one of the windows.

_A liquor cabinet._

Trevor didn’t think he had covered the distance in a room as quickly as he had then. He half-ran to it, opening it wide to peer at its contents. Several bottles of wine, whisky and brandy, a crystal decanter, sets of glasses, all carefully arranged. He snatched one bottle of whisky and deftly uncorked it, sniffing at the liquid inside. It wasn’t ale, of course, but it was strong and aromatic, the undertones of rye and smoke reaching his nostrils. He tipped the bottle over his lips, taking a long draught, and sighed in pleasure. May the Lord be praised to the fucking heavens.

Sypha had drifted to the far side of the room where the library was, eyes wide in excitement. The way she picked books and opened them, smiling and muttering to herself, she really looked like a kid in a candy store.

“Find anything you like there?”

Her gaze snapped to him, blue and impossibly bright, like the morning sky on a midsummer day. “Trevor, this is amazing. Truly amazing. Look at all these books!” she exclaimed, sweeping her arm over them. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many books gathered in one place. There are hundreds. Thousands. Millions!”

Trevor huffed a laugh, drawing closer to her. “That’s a bit of an exaggeration, don’t you think?”

“It’s wonderful,” she continued, as if she hadn’t heard him. “Think of all that knowledge, just waiting for someone to acquire it. This is, this is… fascinating. No wonder it was held under lock and key.”

Trevor walked to one of the shelves, drawing out a leather bound book and glancing at its title. “Uh-huh. Because everyone within miles would be clamoring to get their hands on the _Life of St. Simeon_ by Archbishop Sava. Oh, look, it even has lithographies of the holy relic! Priceless.” He yelped when Sypha smacked him playfully on the arm with a book. “Are you going to hit me with every single item in this house?”

“What a great idea! I think I might.” Sypha shook her head and grinned, putting the book back in its place. “You’re incorrigible.”

“Alright, I concede. This place isn’t too shabby. And the library is a nice touch, I’ll give you that.” Trevor leaned against the shelf, watching as her fingertips brushed over the books’ spines with so much care and tenderness. She looked so enthralled, that Trevor couldn’t help the smile that blossomed on his face. “Have you ever thought of having a home?”

“A home?” Sypha’s brows were drawn in a curious frown when she looked at him. “As in, an actual home? Of bricks and stones?”

“As homes tend to be.”

“A home…” She let her words trail off, glancing about her. “I’ve never had one. My clan was my home. They were the only safety I knew, and I never sought more. I don’t think it ever crossed my mind.”

“How about now?” Trevor said, moving a step closer.

“I’m not sure… I have to admit that sleeping in a bed is much better than sleeping outside. Or in a carriage. And I suppose it’s nice, having your own space. Your own four walls. But then again… You’re inside four walls. Must be somewhat suffocating. Don’t you agree?”

“You can get out of those walls whenever you want.” He snaked an arm around her waist, pulling her close. He leaned down, burying his face in her neck. “Think of all the books you could have there,” he whispered against her skin.

“Now, _that’s_ an idea I can get behind.” Sypha hummed, letting herself be trapped between the library and Trevor’s body. “What about you? Would you like to have a home?”

Trevor paused for a moment to think, tilting his head up as Sypha placed kisses along the underside of his jaw. “I suppose it would be nice. It would be good to bathe in a tub for once instead of in streams. Or in the barrels they have in most inns these days. Who thought it a good idea to use a barrel for a tub? Half the water gets splashed out.”

Sypha chuckled, smoothing her palms up his arms. “That’s because the barrels are too small for you. And because you always shake your head about and get water everywhere. Like a hound.”

“A hound, am I?” She squealed when Trevor lifted her up, wrapping her legs around his waist. “You seem to have a lot of opinions about me.”

“Oh, I am chock full of opinions about you, Trevor Belmont,” she murmured against his lips as he carried her to the bed.

Trevor laughed softly, letting her down at the edge of the bed and kneeling on the floor before her. A flame sparked in his chest at the sudden flush that had crept up Sypha’s cheeks. “Care to tell me what those are?” he whispered, his palm slithering under her robes, smoothing up her legs.

A shiver ran through her, making her cheeky smile quiver just a hair. “Are you sure you want to hear them?” she said, quirking a brow.

“Oh, I’m absolutely sure.” Trevor pushed the fabric of her robes out of the way, placing kisses along the inside of her thigh. She moaned softly when he ran his lips over her smallclothes, already damp with her arousal. “Well?”

Long, delicate fingers threaded through his hair as he pulled her smallclothes down and tossed them away. “You’re so, so stubborn,” she said, swallowing thickly. “And grumpy. And you snore when you sleep. And you always complain about not having beer. And… oh-” her sentence was cut short when Trevor dipped his tongue in her wetness. Her hold on his hair tightened as her hips bucked towards him. “Oh, Trevor.”

Trevor flicked his tongue over the small bud between her legs, hidden in the soft thatch of coppery blonde curls. Her breathy moans, the smooth, rolling movement of her hips, the taste, _fuck_ , the taste of her - they set his blood to boiling, making a wave of desire rush through him. He lapped at her eagerly, watching as she flushed and blossomed like a rose under his ministrations. She was wonderful and exquisite, and he wanted her more than he could bear.

He smoothed a finger over her entrance, relishing her gasp when he pushed it gently inside her. “Any more opinions you’d like to share?” he whispered teasingly, brushing the flat of his tongue along her cleft.

“Trevor, oh, Trevor-” she gasped, her hips rising up to meet his mouth. A small whine left her lips before she could bite it back. “You’re a wicked, wicked man.”

Trevor chuckled softly, easing another finger inside her. Sypha moaned, rocking against him, driving his fingers deeper. Driving them. She was exquisite, wanton and wanting, flushed lips parting as she breathed. Trevor’s hold tightened on her hips, fingers digging in the flesh of her thigh as he licked her greedily, gathering her sweetness with his tongue. It wasn’t long before he felt her muscles tightening around his fingers, her breaths becoming more erratic as she spasmed under his mouth.

He leaned back when he felt the waves of her orgasm abating, lips curling in a cheeky smile. “I think your impression of me has just improved.”

Sypha laughed, cupping his neck and drawing him to her. She caught his lips in a kiss, sighing when she tasted herself on his tongue. Her fingers smoothed over the buttons of his doublet, working them free. “Oh, just stop talking,” she chuckled softly. “Stop talking and take me now.”

It wasn’t like Trevor needed any further encouragement. He pulled his doublet off him and tugged his undershirt over his head while Sypha worked his belt open. They tossed their clothes over the side of the bed hurriedly, as if neither of them could stand the feel of clothes between them. Trevor was so hard he thought he would weep by the time his trousers were chucked away and he finally - _finally_ \- pulled Sypha’s robes over her head. And stared upon her nakedness. And the fire that had pooled in his belly roared and blazed.

He leaned down, between her open legs, kissing a line from her navel to her bellybutton, to the soft dip under her ribcage. Sypha sighed when he closed his teeth over a raised nipple, her palms smoothing down his neck and feeling the muscles of his back. Trevor shivered with her touch, with her rich, womanly scent, with the taste and feel of her. Pale skin, soft like velvet, her strawberry blonde strands catching in his lips when he surged up to kiss her neck, her jaw, her ear. Sweet and sharp, peaches and cream on his tongue. Intoxicating.

Trevor threw his head back when her slender fingers wrapped around his cock, pumping him slowly. “Sypha…” he groaned, thrusting helplessly in her hand.

Sypha kissed him deeply, her tongue tracing the contours of his mouth. “I want you,” she moaned. “I want you so much.”

The breathiness in her voice, the lust in her eyes, that rosy flush that brightened her cheeks; they were too much for him to bear. He angled himself at her entrance, chest heaving with his breaths as he pushed inside her. Fuck, it was good. It was unbearably, infuriatingly good. His eyes rolled back when he was enveloped in that wet, velvet heat, Sypha’s body drawing him in, fitting perfectly with his. If Trevor had ever said that beer was better than sex, he was surely the biggest fool in Wallachia and beyond.

Sypha’s arms ran down his back, fingers digging in his flesh, pulling him close. Her hips rolled in time with his, meeting him thrust for thrust. He pushed against her, deeply, eagerly, losing himself more and more in that excruciating pleasure that warmed his entire body to its core.

“Oh, Trevor,” Sypha gasped when his palm smoothed over her breast. He brushed his thumb over her nipple, closing his teeth over her bottom lip, drinking in her moans and her panting breaths. “Trevor, you’re so- oh, you feel amazing, Trevor, please..."

Garbled words and half sentences rushed forth from her lips, making Trevor’s head swim. Sypha called out his name again and again, while her hands explored every inch of his body. Trevor was never overly fond of his name, yet now, _now,_ spoken in her breathless voice, murmured against his skin, mumbled against his lips, like a plea, like a benediction- it made things to him that his own name shouldn’t possibly be doing.

He hooked an arm under her leg, bringing it over his shoulder, burrowing as much of his cock as he could inside her. Sypha’s head fell back against her pillow as she cried, bracing against the head of the bed. She looked up at him, her brows drawing together in pleasure. “Trevor- oh this is so good- harder, please- please-”

She was panting, swearing and begging him in equal amounts as Trevor pushed against her. He didn’t think he had ever heard anything as pleasant coming from her, but then again, at that moment, even if she had been reciting the Book of Psalms to him it would have probably made him lose his mind just the same. A white hot blaze of want rippled through him when she pulled his face down to hers, her tongue twining with his.

Trevor was sure he saw stars for a moment when he felt her muscles tightening around him once more. He slammed into her as deeply as he could, watching as he back arched like a drawn bow, as she cried out his name, as tears pooled at the corners of her eyes. He thrust hard and fast, letting the waves of lust rush through him until all his pent up want burst into something hot and blinding. His body flexed as he pushed shallowly a few times, pouring everything he had inside her. And then collapsed in the cradle of her arms, sweating and heaving like he had just fought an army of beasts.

Sypha sighed, running her palms down his back, tracing the sweat that had gathered in the channel of his spine. She followed that line, her palms smoothing over the curve of his spine, then over his buttocks. And gave them a little squeeze. And grinned at him. “I have some opinions I haven’t shared yet. They concern a very particular part of your anatomy. Want to hear them?”

Trevor chuckled weakly, swatting her hand away as he rolled on his back. All the tension from the previous days had eased out of his limbs, whose consistency was now dangerously close to that of jelly. He hummed in pleasure when Sypha slithered close to him, her fingers tracing the scars on his sides.

“You know,” she said, giving him a cheeky smile, “perhaps I spoke a little too soon before. I think it would be nice to have a home. If only so I could make love to you on a bed like this every night.”

“Is that right?” Trevor wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. “I wouldn’t mind that either. Especially the ‘making love’ part.”

Sypha smiled and buried her face in his neck, shivering slightly. “It’s cold here.”

Trevor looked at the blanket that was folded at the edge of the bed. It looked like it had been there for ages. “Well,” he mused, “we can either cover ourselves with a very dusty blanket, or with my cloak. You choose.”

Sypha groaned. “Not your stinky cloak again!”

“Dusty blanket it is, then,” Trevor chuckled, sitting up to get the blanket when Sypha pulled him back on the mattress. She purred softly as she pressed her body against his, nuzzling his chest.

“I have everything I need right here.”

The tenderness in her touch, the affection in her words, it made Trevor’s heart swell. He hugged her tightly and pressed his lips on her hair, inhaling deeply. “I love you,” he whispered. She leaned back to look at him, her too bright eyes sparkling. He traced his knuckle down her cheek, smiling at her. “I really do.”

“I love you, too.” She kissed him gently, cupping his cheek. When her gaze met his again, Trevor thought he would melt. “I don’t need a fancy house made of bricks and stone, or a comfortable bed,” she said. “Not when I have you.”

Trevor gazed at her then, committing the map of her features to memory, locking away that moment forever in his mind. The arch of her brows, the line of her nose, the spark in her smiling eyes, the quirk of her full lips. The sunlight streaming through the windows, painting the side of her face gold. The dust motes suspended in the air. The sound of their heartbeats.

“They say that home is where the heart is,” he whispered, so softly it was more breath than sound. “You’re my home, Sypha.”

Sypha let out a sigh, her breath washing over him when her lips glided over his in a gentle kiss once more. She pressed her cheek on his chest, settling against him. Trevor wrapped his arms around her, letting her warmth seep through him.

“This is nice,” she said softly.

“It is,” Trevor replied, closing his eyes. “Beds are nice. Think you could get one? Now that you’re my home and all.”

Sypha snorted. “No, I won’t. It’s the wooden floor of the carriage for you.”

“Should have seen that coming,” Trevor sighed. “Could you at least get socks, then? You’re going to freeze me to death with your feet one of these days. Really, they’re just- _ooow_ ,” he yelped when Sypha pinched him on his sides.

“Stop talking, Belmont.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm [JohaerysLavellan on Tumblr](https://johaeryslavellan.tumblr.com/). Come say hi if you fancy!
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated :)


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